He was trapped. There was nowhere for him to go. Worse than that, he couldn't move. His limbs were frozen to his side, immovable and no matter how desperately his mind was screaming at his body to respond, he couldn't do anything other than emit a small whimper.
Her breath was practically merging with his, her lips blood red as they smirked invitingly at him.
"Come on baby," she purred in a marble-smooth voice "You can't tell me you haven't wanted this. I could see it on your face all through dinner. Besides..." she leaned close enough to brush his ears with her mouth "...you're a guy. And what guy wouldn't want this?"
Her fingers felt cold as they ran through his hair, carelessly mussing the meticulously arranged strands into a state of disarray, something that corresponded with his current state of being. Not just disarray, he was downright frightened.
Her languid movements, calculated and teasing as she moved closer to him, the icy feel of her fingers crawling across his skin felt like spiders, everything about this movement terrified him. Even as she closed the distance between them, her strong perfume clotted the air around them and made it difficult to breathe without feeling nauseous.
Finally, he was able to weakly whisper, "P-please. Please stop."
Her only response was to give him another sickly smirk and he shut his eyes tightly, afraid of what was to come.
Kyoya shot up from the sweat-stained sheets, his heart beating hard and fast as he struggled to catch his breath. He scrambled about wildly for a few moments before reality ensued and he realized that he was alone in his own room. Groaning, he ran a hair across his drenched forehead and to his annoyance discovered that his body was unable to stop itself from trembling.
Reaching out to his nightstand, he attempted to snatch up his cell phone but only succeeded in dropping it to the ground. Cursing audibly, he wiped his hands on the bed sheets before reaching down to retrieve his phone and check the time.
3:45. Crap.
Kyoya took a slow long inhale of air and held it just long enough to feel the dizzying effects of oxygen deprivation before bothering to let it out again. The discomfort experienced by this was oddly gratifying and it stabilized him enough to carefully slide his legs off the bed and plant his feet on the floor.
Soiled. He felt dirty and the need to shower and rid himself of the filth of...her. Clenching his jaw, he stumbled out of bed and walked heavily to the bathroom. Slamming the door unnecessarily too hard, he leaned on the door for a moment.
Keen grey eyes swiveled around to fully immerse himself in his pristine surroundings. With its white walls and silver accents, the bathroom was often compared to an antiseptic hospital by his friends but in Kyoya's current state, the stark white room enveloped him in a tenuous sense of security. It looked and felt so clean.
Giving an involuntary shiver, he quickly stripped off his damp pajamas and turned the shower on. Making the water as hot as possible, he stepped into the scalding stream before grabbing a rough wash cloth and applying it to his skin with all the force of scraping a piece of wood with sandpaper.
His skin was burning but he just kept scrubbing it with more intensity, trying to make the feeling of filth abate. In the back of his mind, he knew the crawling sense of being somehow defiled couldn't be removed no matter how hot the water was nor how hard he scrubbed his skin.
Giving a small groan, Kyoya pressed his head on the wall and finally shut the water off. Showering was doing nothing for him other than increasing his anxiety so he stepped out of the stall and walked to the bathtub instead. Sliding down the slick surface, he turned on the water and adjusted the knobs to a comfortable temperature as opposed to the searing shower he had just experienced. After pouring in a variety of soaps claiming to relax and rejuvenate, Kyoya leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
It had been several months and still, the nightmares came. Always cloudy, always blurry, always disturbing. The one thought that always entered his mind after the panicky episodes following these nightmares was that he could have stopped her.
He was a male, he was stronger than her, he was an Ootori, he should've known better than to put himself into that position. And yet, it had still happened. On several different occasions, she had somehow managed to corner him before attempting to seduce him. No, seduce was too gentle a word to use for the forceful way she pushed herself on him and demanded reciprocation for all the unwanted attention she consistently gave him. Fortunately, although her actions were quite brazen, she hadn't succeeded in her intent and her last attempt had been interrupted by his brother entering the room.
Thinking about what might have happened had he not intervened made a shudder go down Kyoya's spine. And yet, a part of him wished that his older brother had not caught him in that shameful moment. He could not remember another time in his life when he had ever felt so exposed, so humiliated. In fact, he had initially thought that the rage on Akito's face was directed toward him. At least, that was until he practically threw the girl out of the room and very nearly hit her.
In spite of this, Kyoya couldn't believe that his brother hadn't been at least internally disgusted at his weak younger brother cowering on the floor. Even now, he felt revulsion at the memory and at how his body had completely frozen as she ran her fingers across his chest.
His eyes snapping open suddenly, Kyoya realized that it had been a long time since he had first entered the bathroom. Getting up reluctantly from the now lukewarm water, he unplugged the drain and dried himself with a towel, trying to avoid looking at his haggard appearance in the mirror.
When he had dressed, Kyoya slowly walked out of the bathroom and back to his bedroom. Dragging himself the short way to his bed, he suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion hit him and it took every drop of strength to keep himself from collapsing on the ground. When he finally approached his bed, falling into its feathery mattress, any fears he had of falling asleep was replaced by an infinite sense of weariness.
His best efforts to stay awake failed and his eyelids slowly began to droop before finally closing and, this time, his mind remained clear. The following day would yield its own problems but, for now, the dark prince slept soundly.
